


Kindness or Something Else

by Jellyfiggles



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Arguing, Attempt at Humor, Awkward Sexual Situations, Dubious Consent, First Kiss, Hand Jobs, Internal Conflict, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Not Canon Compliant, Out of Character, Sensitive Ears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-23
Updated: 2011-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-24 18:14:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22002289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jellyfiggles/pseuds/Jellyfiggles
Summary: AU set within Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1, after the Mundungus scene, before the infiltration of the Ministry. Dobby tries to show Kreacher some kindness, kindness which morphs into something else.
Relationships: Dobby/Kreacher (Harry Potter)
Kudos: 8





	Kindness or Something Else

**Author's Note:**

> Old Fic (2011) which I don't actually remember writing and I feel may have been on a dare?  
> Regardless, you saw the pairing and tags so, read at your peril!

“You follow the traitor.” 

It wasn’t a question and Dobby was well aware of it. “Harry Potter is NOT a traitor.” His eyes bugged in anger as he turned to point a bony finger at the older house-elf, “Kreacher should be watch what he says.”

Kreacher made a ‘pfft’ noise, resting his hand on the table ledge. “You are a bad elf, scum, vile, you are happy to be cast out by your master. Dobby is a fool.” His voice creaked like a rusty door hinge, his wrinkled skin wrinkling even further as he glowered at the younger, impudent elf.

Dobby paused in the middle of breath, ready to continue the argument but he stopped himself. The older elf looked absolutely haggard. Dobby would bet his (rather large) collection of socks that Kreacher had had a similar life to his own, back when he still served in the Malfoy household. Years and years of abuse, back-breaking work, humiliation and the constant barrage of verbal reminders of what he was (a worthless slave) and encouragement to punish himself. 

Now, he knew he was an unusual house-elf, instead of accepting his fate and the treatment, or allowing it to drive him mad, he’d secretly dreamed of something more. Something no other house-elf ever did. To be his own master. It had happened, when he had least expected it, thanks to the first person to have treated him with kindness and as the equal he had always (guiltily) wanted to be.

He had found himself addicted to that kindness, always so grateful to Mr Potter for freeing him and making him a dear friend. It occurred to him, as he stared at the withered Kreacher, that the other elf lacked this amazing experience. He had gone mad long before he had ever experienced Potter’s kindness. Perhaps, he needed to feel the kindness first hand? He had seen Kreacher plucked up by the scruff of his neck when he was being disagreeable, but had the other house-elf ever been embraced?

Dobby held up a hand to silence his still grumbling companion. He walked forwards, wary of how unhinged Kreacher could be. “Kreacher hates Harry Potter, yes? Why? He is kind to Dobby, would be kind to Kreacher too!”

Kreacher made a strangled sound, edging away from the other. “You are a bad elf. We are to serve, not serve ourselves! Dobby is house-elf, not human! He and I do not need kindness, we need our masters!” He growled, feeling suddenly cautious, uncertain of what direction this conversation was heading.

Feeling emboldened, Dobby slid closer. “But Kreacher doesn’t know this kindness, cannot say if it not good. House-elves feel like humans too, like same things.” He smiled, watching Kreacher falter, watching him almost worriedly. Before the other could make a move, Dobby stepped even closer and grabbed the other elf, curling his wiry arms around Kreacher’s thin frame.

Kreacher stiffened, a shocked and affronted gasp escaping his lips. The arms around him were tight and constricting, the press of torso against torso extreme and overwhelming. He shivered as the other’s warm ear brushed against his own, the thin flap of skin sensitive to the unexpected touch. 

Warm breath hit his shoulder through the worn material covering his body. Kreacher tried struggling at first, panicking at the unwanted touch. The other wouldn’t budge. Before long, however, Dobby drew back slightly and Kreacher found himself staring into the younger house-elf’s bright eyes and curling smile. Hands pressed into his back and hot breath hit his neck making him shiver. He opened his mouth, feeling like he should voice some protest but he only ended up gaping like a fish out of water.

“Does Kreacher see now? See, it feels good.” Dobby smiled, enjoying the surprise on the older elf’s face. He tightened his hold slightly, drawing close once more. “See, nothing for Kreacher to be afraid of...” he trailed off, nuzzling Kreacher’s wrinkled throat absentmindedly.

The older elf wasn’t sure if he saw what the other was on about at all, but the hot breath against his neck and then the soft press of the other’s nose tip made blood rush to his cheeks. The embrace suddenly felt much too hot, less of an entrapment but more like a support as he shivered again. The unexpected sensation of soft lips and tongue moving down his neck made him emit a low moan, his head falling backwards, his throat exposed even more.

Dobby was not exactly sure why the urge to kiss Kreacher’s throat had suddenly come over him, but he found himself giving into the urge without a second thought. The skin was soft and tasted almost musty, as though Kreacher were one of the old, untouched objects within the Black family’s house. The moan made him bolder still, kissing down to the tattered cloth over the other’s chest. Hands slid onto his arms, as if looking for something to hold on to.

Kreacher had never felt this way before, not in all his many years of service. He had seen such things before, brief glimpses throughout the years, before he looked away in shame and shuffled out of the room, or past the open door. Of course house-elves bred and produced young, but it was a necessity, organised by their masters. And Kreacher had never considered such acts. Dobby’s mouth was moving ever lower, brushing just under his covering. The tip of Dobby’s ear brushed against Kreacher’s lips and on a whim, he stuck out his tongue and licked it. The resulting gasp made his face grow even hotter.

Dobby unwound his arms, his hands instead moving to support the other as he nuzzled below the fabric. The lick to his ear had him gasping, happy to see Kreacher was enjoying himself enough to respond. As he sucked gently on the skin of Kreacher’s throat, he felt the other house-elf’s legs buckle and without thinking, he gently pushed the other backwards onto the floor. Dobby knelt between Kreacher’s legs, suckling on the familiar shape of the other’s left ear.

Kreacher stuttered out as he was pushed back, landing on his back with a slight bump. He was stunned for a moment by the cold stone slabs suddenly pressed against his back. He found himself arching up against the warm body on top of him. The hot mouth on his ear made him groan, fingers gripping Dobby’s shoulders desperately as the younger elf moved over him.

Dobby stared down at Kreacher, panting slightly. The other elf was flushed, mouth open, his lips quivering. Dobby bent down and gently kissed his older companion on the mouth. He felt Kreacher stiffen under him, his large, pointy nose poking into Dobby’s cheek in a slightly uncomfortable manner. Dobby persevered, licking out against the other’s bottom lip, trying to copy the few kisses he had witnessed between Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. It was harder than it looked.

Kreacher’s eyes flew open when their tongues touched. He had seen kissing certainly, even between the scum and blood-traitors who invaded the Black family’s house, but it was one thing to see such an act and to have it planted on oneself unexpectedly! Hands cupped his cheeks and the lips continued their gentle pressing into his mouth, the foreign tongue running against his own and his teeth. When it brushed over the roof of his mouth Kreacher moaned, hips pushing up and a hand cupping the back of Dobby’s head, deepening the kiss.

Dobby moaned, his own body enjoying the contact. He continued the kiss, a hand moving from Kreacher’s cheek to stroke his ear. The younger house-elf rocked against the other, little gasps lost in Kreacher’s mouth. Vaguely, he was aware of a noise in the hall outside the kitchen but paid it no mind as the humans were asleep. 

Kreacher heard the voice even before the door opened. He was hypersensitive to the hushed voices used by the Order and even through the haze of pleasure, the whisper jolted him. The older elf broke the kiss, ears perked and alert. The slight shriek of the rusty metal doorknob made Kreacher frantically push Dobby backwards, getting to his feet awkwardly, eyes wide on the door. His skin tingled from the contact and to his dismay, Kreacher found he was panting, his face flushed.

The door opened with a creak, the tired forms of Harry and Hermione making their way into the kitchen. “Harry, honestly, even if we get into the ministry, there’s still the factor that Umbridge is going to be impossible to find, the Ministry isn’t exactly the smallest of places!”

“I know I know... we’ve got to think about this, but things usually work out somehow in the end, don’t they-” harry paused, looking down at the house-elves with a quizzical expression. Kreacher was standing, looking sheepish whilst Dobby was picking himself of the floor, chuckling nervously. Harry sighed, “Have you two been fighting again? We’ve been over this twice already!”

Dobby shook his head up at the taller boy, “Kreacher and Dobby have not been fighting, Dobby tripped on a loose stone. Why is Harry Potter not sleeping at this late hour?”

As if on cue, Harry yawned. “Dobby’s right Hermione, we should get some rest, we can always discuss this in the morning.” 

Hermione rolled her eyes before smiling down at the house-elves. “Well, it’s good to see you two are starting to get along, you have so much in common.” She grabbed Harry’s arm, pulling him out of the room, “goodnight Dobby, goodnight Kreacher.”

Dobby waved after her, “goodnight to you too.” He waited a moment until their footsteps had reached the top of the stairs before turning to his older companion. “Kreacher is alright?”

Kreacher had remained silent throughout the exchange; he still disapproved of the mudblood and the ‘boy-who-lived’ in his precious Mistress’s house, but when Dobby spoke, he looked over at the other. “Kreacher is fine.” He stared at Dobby, feeling at once a swell of apprehension and want. 

Dobby grinned and stepped towards the other, once again invading Kreacher’s personal space. “And did Kreacher enjoy it?” Because Dobby had, and he would be quite happy to repeat their earlier interaction... very happy indeed.

Kreacher swallowed, quite audibly in the silent house. He backed up against the sink as Dobby approached, unsure if he really wanted to do this again. It had felt good but it was also the irritating elf that insulted him with his attitude and behaviour (a free house-elf! Bah, more of a failed house-elf!). His beloved Mistress would never have approved of such things.

Dobby smiled, watching Kreacher curiously. He would stop if the other asked of course, but the flush across the older house-elf’s cheeks told him a different story. He drew closer still, until he was face-to-face with Kreacher, their lips only divided by their noses. “Kreacher does not wish to try it again?” Dobby whispered, hand reaching out to stroke down Kreacher’s arm.

The older elf blinked, shivering at the proximity and touch of the other. “You-you want to, again?” Kreacher broke the intense eye-contact for a moment, looking at the ground, considering. “Kreacher is not... we are not like our masters.” He jerked his eyes up again, “we cannot do things like this, it is not allowed.” 

Dobby frowned, “Dobby is a free elf, I has no master. And Kreacher’s master is Harry Potter and Harry Potter would like Dobby and Kreacher to not fight. This is not fighting, is it?” He pressed his body against the older house-elf’s, hand cupping Kreacher’s cheek.

Kreacher’s mouth fell open at the jolt of sensation that had run up his spine at the sudden body contact. His hips jerked in reaction and his hands sprung of their own accord, taking hold of Dobby’s ears and dragging him into a kiss. He soon discovered that their mouths had a hard time meshing together, even when he twisted his head. Even so, the feeling of lips against his proved just as pleasant as it had previously, making him moan into the younger elf’s mouth.

Not expecting the reaction, Dobby was a tad startled by the kiss, but he happily deepened it, pressing against Kreacher’s stockier body. His hand moved, stroking down Kreacher’s chest, sliding downwards until it reached-

Kreacher threw his head back with a gasp, breaking the kiss. He stared at Dobby wide-eyed, panting and flushed. He stared at the younger elf in shock, body shaking as the hand continued its way under his ragged clothing. His legs shook as the fabric was dragged even farther up his thigh. “What is Dobby doing?!” He gripped the other’s shoulder, pressing back against sink.

Dobby faltered, fingers stopping, but not withdrawing. “Don’t know, feels good. Dobby once saw a boy doing it at Hogwarts and Dobby tries it. Does Kreacher not like it?” He stroked again, watching the other’s face.

Kreacher groaned, his hips bucking in response to the gentle touch of Dobby’s thin fingers. It felt... overwhelming. He shook, pressing forwards and resting his head on Dobby’s shoulder. It did feel good, but almost too powerfully pleasant, like any moment, his body would shatter beneath the younger house-elf’s hands. Unbidden, his own hand slid forwards, sneaking under Dobby’s pillowcase, curiously searching. At Dobby’s gasp he smiled, copying his companion’s movements as best he could.

Dobby moaned, pulling his pillowcase upwards and pressing forwards. He uncurled Kreacher’s fingers and re-curled his hand around both of them, his own hand covering Kreacher’s and guiding him. With his free hand, he pulled the older elf forwards; kissing his mouth, neck and ears hungrily.

Kreacher was confused at Dobby’s actions at first, but the new sensations were amazing, sending pleasurable sparks through all his nerves. He returned the kisses and licks, the taste of the other house-elf’s skin addicting, the sound of his gasps and whimpers spurring his hand to move even faster, to tighten just so. He could sense the feelings were increasing, heightening and he kissed Dobby deeply, shaking. Just as he felt he could take no more, the sensations reached breaking point and crashed, splintering off into a pleasurable storm throughout his body. He cried out, warmth sliding down his thigh through the haze.

Dobby stiffened, gasping into Kreacher’s neck as he reached climax, his hips juddering as lights danced behind eyelids, a warm bubble of pleasure bursting within his abdomen. He stumbled forwards, pressing Kreacher into the sink as he panted, his free hand gripping the edge of the sink, keeping them from falling. He gave a last, shaky sigh, “K-Kreacher, is alright?”

Kreacher could not answer at first, overwhelmed by the experience. He shuddered against the sink and Dobby’s body, legs shaking as he panted. He wrapped his long arms around Dobby’s body, resting his head on the other’s shoulder. “Kreacher is... is alright, Dobby is as well?” He found he could barely make a sentence, torn between sighing in contentment and yawning with exhaustion.

The younger elf chuckled tiredly, “Dobby is better than alright, Dobby feels great! Thanks to you.” He stroked the other’s back. “We should sleep now.”  
Kreacher pointed to a cupboard and tugged Dobby towards it. The dark space held little except a quilt and what looked to Dobby like several filched items from the Black family’s house. They snuggled into Kreacher’s nest and soon fell fast asleep.

The End.


End file.
